


2. About Face - The Artist Series

by Denise_Felt



Series: The Artist Series [2]
Category: Gerry Anderson's UFO
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-09
Updated: 2010-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise_Felt/pseuds/Denise_Felt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Straker's attempt to start fresh is interrupted by the aliens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2. About Face - The Artist Series

## 2\. About Face

  
by Denise Felt  2010

  
**Chapter 1**

  
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" Charlene Talbot, assistant director of the Arcadia Art Gallery in London, stood in the hall just outside the doorway to her office and danced in place in her three-inch stilettos, fluttering her long-fingered hands dramatically.

  
"What?" tersely asked her long-suffering friend, who’d been trying to force the computer to unfreeze for the past ten minutes and had no patience to spare for the one who’d fouled its works up – again.

  
Charlene’s face glowed. "You will not believe who is here in our gallery!" she whispered theatrically, enjoying herself immensely and completely forgetting the reason why she wasn’t in her office working at the moment.

  
Her friend looked at her from beneath her brows, blowing a strand of black hair out of her eyes so that she could see her better. "Who?"

  
Charlene did a happy jiggle, somehow managing not to fall off her high heels. "Ed Straker!"

  
At her friend’s blank stare, she elaborated. "You know, the film studio mogul! You have to see him. He’s even better than he looks onscreen – and that’s saying something!"

  
"You talk to him," her friend said dismissively as the screen finally shut down. She quickly rebooted the CPU and crossed her fingers.

  
"I can’t!" wailed Charlene in a stage whisper. "I’m already melting, and he’s across the room! I’ll turn into a puddle of lust at his feet if I get any closer. I just know it!"

  
Her friend’s eyes turned hard. "It’s your job to talk up the clients, Charlene. He’s a film producer, right? They’re all dicks. Just keep in mind how many mistresses he’s got tucked away, and you’ll do just fine handling him." The system finished rebooting, and the welcome screen for the art gallery popped up. She gave a deep sigh and pulled up the spreadsheet, checking the data to make sure nothing had gotten lost in the crash.

  
"_Cait!_" Charlene hissed, stomping her stilettos.

  
"Oh, for crying out loud!" muttered her friend, coming around the desk to the doorway and peering down the hall into the gallery. What she saw made her dark eyebrows climb into the fringe covering her forehead. "Hmmm."

  
"See?"

  
A man stood near the far end of the gallery, gazing at one of the light murals that hung there. His lean physique was displayed to advantage in a classic Nehru suit, giving him a slender beauty that spoke to the heart and not just the eyes. His head was in profile to them, showing off the contrast between his white blonde hair and tanned face. She was surprised that his hair wasn’t longer. Or shorter. Film producers had a reputation for the dramatic in their appearance, and she’d never seen one that didn’t either sport hair to their waist and a goatee or else an almost military buzz cut. Or else be completely bald. But this producer’s hair wasn’t even to his shoulders, and only just brushed the high collar of his suit jacket. She wondered what that said about him?

  
"He looks harmless," she told her friend, but she didn’t really believe it. There was something about him that made her heart beat faster, and she was so disgusted by that display of feminine foolishness that she tightened her lips and said, "Listen. I’ve got the computer up and running again. Go ahead and get the rest of the invoices onto the spreadsheet. And this time, don’t kill it. Okay? I’ll go speak to him for you."

  
Charlene sighed gustily. "Thank you, Cait! I owe you big time for this!"

  
"You certainly do," her friend muttered as she made her way down the hall to the gallery.

  
***

  
Straker was pleased to see that the gallery still carried art by Cait Kerr. He hadn’t been sure that she still displayed at the same place. After all, it had been over fifteen years since he’d bought his mural, and artists could be flighty. But her work was not only still displayed here, but she had more than just light murals to offer. There was a painting of Loch Mhor by moonlight that made his throat close up remembering, and one of a flowering meadow that made him think of home and childhood. But he kept coming back to one of the light murals. It was somewhat similar to the one that had hung in his office for so long, but the colors were more varied. And though they mingled and meandered across the mural in a very relaxing way, they intertwined more often than they had in the one he knew. Yet he somehow found their intricate movements even more entrancing, if that were possible. There was a depth to this mural that the other had lacked, and he wondered if this showed the artist’s own growth over the years?

  
He felt someone approach, but did not take his eyes off the mural. If he met their eyes, he knew he’d have to make polite conversation, and he preferred his own company. But just before she spoke, his body tensed, recognizing her by some subtle means unknown to him. _Cait_. Then she spoke, and he tried to force his body to relax and his heart to stop racing.

  
"What do you think of it?" she asked.

  
He turned and met her eyes. She looked as demure and lovely as the last time he’d seen her. Older, yes, and her hair was short now, pertly framing her face. But in her light grey eyes he saw the same deep pools of intelligence and wisdom he’d lost himself in all those years ago. His mouth went dry. He needed to answer her. It was impolite to stare. But his heart was roaring in his ears and he could hardly think.

  
"It’s beautiful," he murmured finally, his eyes devouring her face.

  
She drew in a breath at the expression in his blue eyes – and forgot to let it out again. Only when her lungs started screaming in depravation did she take a deep gulp of air and turn toward the mural. It was much easier to breathe looking at it rather than at him. Her face felt flushed and heated, and she couldn’t imagine why she was reacting so strongly to him. Men didn’t fluster her. Ever. _Good God! What was wrong with her?_

  
She licked her suddenly dry lips. "What do you see when you look at it?"

  
He obediently turned and gazed at the mural. After a long moment, he said softly, "Peace."

  
She glanced at him in surprise. There had been something in his voice just then . . . something she’d felt all the way to her toes. She gulped and gave him a slight smile. "That’s a good answer."

  
"What did you see when you created it?"

  
Cait was amazed that he knew who she was. But when she looked at the mural, her smile warmed. "The wonder of fragmented light. And its endurance even when shattered as it bursts forth with a million different colors instead of just one. And the multitude of even more colors that can be found when those collide. It’s unstoppable really when you think about it. No matter what you do to destroy it, it just becomes all the more fascinating."

  
"And brightens every dark place," he murmured.

  
Her grin flashed. "Every time," she agreed.

  
They gazed at the mural for a time in silence, but when she eventually stepped back to let him contemplate it without distraction, he turned to her and said, "What do you call it?"

  
She glanced at the wall beneath the mural, where a small placard should have been displayed in the holder there. But it was missing. She frowned for a moment, then met his eyes. "It’s called ‘Persistence’."

  
A smile lit his face, turning him from a handsome man to an irresistible one. His blue eyes mesmerized her, holding her spellbound for a moment so that she almost missed what he said.

  
"I’ll take it."

  
She blinked and said as briskly as she could in the circumstances, "Oh. Good."

  
"And the painting in the corner as well. ‘Midnight in the Highlands,’ I believe it’s called."

  
"Alright." She swallowed. "Would you care to keep looking, or shall we go to the office?"

  
His answering smile was bland, but his eyes were not. "I’ve seen enough, thank you."

  
***

  
"We can have your artwork ready to be picked up by three this afternoon, if that will suit you, Mr. Straker."

  
"That will be fine," he assured her as he signed the necessary paperwork. As he handed it to her, he added, "Are you in London for just today, or for an extended stay?"

  
Cait grimaced slightly. She’d been forced to come to London by the idiocy of an ex who insisted on being difficult, and she’d taken the opportunity to bring more of her art for the gallery at the same time. Something good needed to come out of these past few days dealing with solicitors, and she’d sold a few of her new pieces already. She’d even managed to go out on the town with Charlene one evening. "I go back home tomorrow," she told him. "Why do you ask?"

  
"I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me this evening?"

  
She blinked at him, completely stunned. She’d forgotten his line of work while talking to him; he’d seemed so interesting and not at all like she’d been expecting. But now all her defenses slammed into place, and she said flatly, "Why?"

  
Straker met her suddenly stony gaze for a moment, then spread his hands in a frank manner. "I find your artistic viewpoint quite intriguing. I thought perhaps we could discuss it at length in a more relaxed setting."

  
"Oh." She searched his face, but he didn’t seem to be sending out any lascivious signals. In fact, he seemed just as cordial as he’d been for the past hour. She flushed slightly when she realized that she must have seemed very unfriendly for a moment. "Well . . . alright." She had enjoyed talking to him. He was intelligent and insightful; two characteristics she wasn’t used to finding in a man. But she certainly didn’t need to have some producer type coming on to her. It would just set the seal to this already infuriating trip.

  
"Thank you," he said. "Shall I pick you up at your hotel?"

  
"No. I’ll meet you there."

  
He blinked, then inclined his head. "Very well. Shall we meet at the Criterion then? Say, 7:30?"

  
"Sure."

  
He smiled blandly. "I’ll see you then."

  
***

  
As Straker left the gallery, a small dark man entered. One who paused in the glass doorway and lowered his sunglasses with one finger to watch him walk down the street.

  
"Hmm, hmm, hmm!" sighed the man, his dark eyes twinkling as he let the door close behind him. He twirled his sunglasses in one hand as he said, "What a fine ass! Was that who I think it was?"

  
Charlene laughed, and Cait grinned. "Antoine! Behave!" she scolded him.

  
"Honey, that’s a man that makes a body want to misbehave!" he declared in his defense. "It seems that y’all have been having a good time while I was at lunch. Tell me all the deets now! Was that_ the_ Ed Straker? Film star and movie mogul?"

  
"Yes," Cait said. "And he bought two of my pieces. Can you and Mark get them ready for pickup by three?"

  
"Sure, sugar," he said with a wave of his hand. "But you’re not getting off that easily. What did he say? Tell Antoine everything!"

  
Charlene giggled. "Cait’s the one who talked to him. I’ve seen too many of his movies. I’d have drooled all over him."

  
"Hmm. I get that for sure," said Antoine. "So. Which pieces did he buy?"

  
"‘Persistence’ and ‘Midnight in the Highlands’."

  
"Oh, girl! One of your light murals? Well, he was in a buying mood then, wasn’t he?" Antoine carefully took the painting off the wall and set it aside, then went over to the light mural and unplugged it from its socket.

  
"Antoine," Cait said, tapping the empty placard in front of the mural. "What happened to the name slip?"

  
He paused and looked at it. "Huh. Don’t know. Maybe somebody wanted a souvenir."

  
She frowned. "It was there two days ago when we put it up."

  
"Yeah, honey," he said. "But in this crazy ole world, anything can happen. He bought it even without its name slip, huh? Well. I like a man that knows what he wants. I wonder where he’s going to put this one?"

  
Cait glanced at him as she hefted the painting to carry it to the back. "What do you mean?"

  
Antoine followed her with the light mural. "Well, now. He’s bought one of your murals before, you know."

  
She stared at him. "He did? Which one?"

  
"Hmm." Antoine closed his eyes to bring it back to his memory. "‘Contemplation,’ I think. But don’t quote me on it. It’s been a few years. And he wasn’t such a big name back then. Come to think of it, he didn’t look quite so sexy either. I think he was wearing his hair different then. Slicked down or something. I like the new do, don’t you?"

  
"If he bought ‘Contemplation,’ it’s been at least fifteen years!" she said, zeroing in on the pertinent information. "Are you sure?"

  
Antoine set the light mural carefully down on the packing table and lifted a finger to tap his temple. "Honey, I keep good records of every sale at this gallery right here in my little brain. A girl just never knows when knowledge like that will come in handy."

  
She grinned at him. "Antoine, you’re incorrible!"

  
"That I am, honey," he agreed calmly as he pulled out the packing paper.

  
Charlene and Mark entered the back room. Mark immediately went to assist Antoine in wrapping up the mural while Charlene leaned against a counter and said, "So, tell us what he said to you, Cait! You talked to him for an awfully long time!"

  
Cait shrugged. "We mostly talked about art. He seemed to know what he wanted fairly quickly. I was surprised at how intelligent he was."

  
Mark snorted, but Antoine shook his head. "Honey, you can’t judge an actor by his profession alone. Why, I once knew an actress in New Orleans who could recite any Shakespeare play you wanted – front to back! And not only that, she knew what they meant too!"

  
"Well, he certainly surprised me," Cait said. "Especially when he asked me out."

  
Charlene and Antoine both squealed, making her jump.

  
Antoine grabbed her arm. "Girl, are you telling me that gorgeous hunk of manhood asked you out? And you didn’t tell us sooner? What is wrong with you? Where’s he taking you? Are you going in a limo? Come on now! We want to know everything!"

  
She shook her head, grinning weakly. "I thought he was coming on to me at first, but he just wants to talk more about my work. It’s no big deal."

  
Charlene mimed fainting. "No big deal, she says! The most beautiful man onscreen or off asks her to dinner and she shrugs as if it’s nothing! Antoine, we’ve failed! Face it, we’ve failed to train her properly."

  
"Cut it out, you guys."

  
Antoine patted her hand. "Alright, girl. You tell us everything now. When is the limo coming for you?"

  
Cait looked from one to the other. "Um. It’s not. I told him I’d meet him there."

  
Antoine choked.

  
And Charlene gasped, putting her hands to her mouth in a theatrical gesture. "You did not!" she said in horror from between her hands.

  
Cait was beginning to feel a little foolish. She said, "Well, you’re always telling me how unsafe London is, Charlene! So I thought you’d be proud that I said I’d meet him there instead of letting him know where I was staying."

  
"Oh my God!" moaned Charlene. "I can’t bear it! Ed Straker asks her to dine and she treats him like a serial killer!"

  
Cait flushed. "Just because he’s famous doesn’t mean he’s not, Charlene. Not that I think he is. But you can never be too careful." She pointed a finger at her friend. "You’re the one who told me that!"

  
"Oh, Cait! I meant with regular men. Not a god! You don’t tell a god you’ll meet him there! What could he have thought?"

  
Cait crossed her arms. "He agreed," she said with a pout.

  
"Well, and of course he did!" Antoine said, coming around the end of the table and patting her shoulder bracingly. "Our Cait is an original, after all. So where are you going?"

  
"The Criterion."

  
Charlene frowned. "Cait, that’s a pretty fancy place. Do you have a dress with you?"

  
Her friend shrugged carelessly. "I thought I might borrow one of yours."

  
"I don’t have anything fancy enough for the Criterion!" replied Charlene, waving her arms. "You’ve got to shop! Now!"

  
"Oh, come on!" said Cait, feeling very put-upon.

  
Charlene ignored her, pulling out her cellphone and talking furiously into it. After a minute, she hung up and turned back to her friend. "Okay. It’s a good thing I’ve got connections. Chenille at Florian’s is expecting you. She’ll fix you up with the perfect dress for an evening at the Criterion." She turned to Antoine. "Go hail a cab for her."

  
"But – Florian’s is a designer store!" Cait argued as Antoine dashed out and Charlene pulled her along toward the front entrance. "That’s way too expensive!"

  
"Don’t be difficult, Cait!" her friend said sternly. "This is dinner with Ed Straker, for godsake! You have to do us proud. Besides, you just had a major sale and can now afford a new dress."

  
Cait grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye. "Did I mess up, Charlene? Is he going to think I’m some idiot?"

  
"No, Cait. Of course not," Charlene reassured her as she bundled her into the taxi. "He’ll think you’re wonderful. How could he fail to?"

  
As the cab drove off, Charlene stood for a moment with Antoine in the doorway of the gallery. "My God!" she said quietly. "What must he think of her?"

  
"Look at it this way, honey," Antoine said as they walked back into the gallery. "He’s a film producer. He’s already seen it all."

**Chapter 2**

  
Straker had been thinking of her all afternoon. Other than the length of her hair, she hadn’t changed much in the intervening years. She was still refreshingly candid and practical, her common sense wisdom at odds with the husky voice she used to dispense it. Her clear grey eyes were still stunning in her pale face, framed as they were by her long dark lashes. They were her most arresting feature, but one not easily noticed at a casual glance. It was only when those eyes became animated while she was talking that her true beauty revealed itself. Then she was breath-taking. He’d had the hardest time keeping from sinking into the depths of her lovely eyes as he spoke with her at the gallery. There were a few moments when he’d been almost overcome, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

  
There were times he was grateful for the restraint he’d been forced to learn since earliest childhood.

  
He questioned the wisdom of dining with her tonight. There could be no future for them. He would never be able to put behind him all the guilt and remorse he felt where she was concerned. And it wasn’t as if they’d ever be able to talk about it. Of course, that was even assuming she would want a relationship with him.

  
He’d come to terms with a lot over the past few weeks since his breakdown. One of the hardest things had been relinquishing his foolish dream of a reconciliation between them. He hadn’t even known he’d had the desire for it until he’d faced the past and his part in it, and let it go. That was when it became clear to him that he’d secretly – at the back of his mind – hung onto the thought of someday there being a chance for the two of them to be together. It was a forlorn hope, not at all workable in reality. And he’d had to face that fact, look it in the eye, and accept it. Beyond all other considerations of his past conduct where she was concerned, his life simply didn’t allow for the kind of relationship he wanted with her. She was too far removed from everything he did, even if he could persuade her to take him on. Which he highly doubted. He’d seen the scepticism come into her face when he’d asked her out. He squirmed in his seat at the corner table he had reserved for them as he remembered how she’d looked at him. As if she expected nothing but trouble from him.

  
But he hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking her.

  
He’d been so glad that he would be able to purchase another one of her murals. That he could once more have her soothing presence in his office as he worked the long hours necessary for his job. But when he’d sensed her there beside him – seen her again – he’d been elated beyond all reason. He shouldn’t have been. He should have been appalled that she was even there – that circumstance and cursed fate had brought her back across his path. He should have said a curt good-bye and gotten the hell out of there. Bought the mural at a later date. But he’d just been so thrilled to speak to her again. To hear her voice and watch her expressive face. He’d been quite unable to do anything but drink in the sight of her, the joy of her.

  
And here he was, making things worse for himself by asking her to dinner. Contemplating the thought of enjoying her company for a few stolen hours. Jackson would have a fit if he knew. There could be no happy reunion between them. She didn’t even know him. What did he expect to gain from it? All he would have at the end of the evening would be more memories of her to tear at him through the years: her voice, her smile, her sweetness. It wasn’t as if she would even end the evening with him, giving him that consolation. Not that he could see himself asking her to. But with her Scottish common sense and caution, she would never consider going home with him for the night, no matter how his imagination taunted him otherwise. And if somehow she was that persuadable, it would only compound his own pain in the end. He was only prolonging his agony by being here. He should get up now and leave before she came, giving some excuse to the maitre d’ to pass along to her when she showed up. That was the wisest course.

  
He glanced up to see where the maitre d’ was and saw him approaching with Cait. He stood up with a vast sense of relief at having the decision taken out of his hands. He was a fool, yes. An utter fool to have gotten himself into this mess. He acknowledged it freely to himself as he greeted her with a smile, as he sat down with her, as they perused the menu.

  
But he was a happy fool.

  
***

  
"You look lovely."

  
Cait looked up and met his eyes, flushing slightly. Her hand went to the crisscross neckline of her silk dress. The eggplant silk had black marbling patterned throughout, giving the cocktail dress added texture while keeping the lines classically elegant. Chenille, the salesgirl at Florian’s, had taken one look at her in it and pronounced it exquisite. Cait didn’t know about exquisite, but she had liked the way it flattered her figure and the contrast of the dark color against her creamy skin.

  
"Oh, well. Charlene insisted that I needed a dress for tonight."

  
Straker smiled warmly at her, his blue gaze continuing to compliment her as he asked, "Charlene?"

  
"My friend. She works at the gallery."

  
"I see. Were you visiting her then?"

  
"Yes." Cait sat back as their first course was set before them. After the waiter left, she said, "I’ve been helping her out for a few days while her boss is out of town."

  
Straker took a sip of his tea, trying not to grimace. He much preferred coffee and wondered how long it would take to resign himself to the tea. "You came all the way to London to help out at the gallery? How kind of you!"

  
She waved a hand dismissively. "Not at all. I had to be in town for other reasons, and it just worked out that the timing was good for helping out Charlene too."

  
"And you worked there all day? Haven’t you had a chance to see the city while you’ve been here?"

  
Cait shrugged. "I checked out a few exhibits at the larger art galleries. But I didn’t really have a lot of free time this trip."

  
He shook his head. "And you gave up all your free time to help your friend? I hope she was grateful."

  
"It wasn’t that bad," she assured him. "I’ve only been working over the lunch hours, so that the rest of the staff can get their meals out of the way. Actually, I wouldn’t have still been there today if Charlene hadn’t crashed her computer. Antoine was gone for lunch, so it was left to me to get it running again for her."

  
He set his cup down and gave her an odd look. "You mean, if her computer had been fine, you wouldn’t have been there when I came in?"

  
"Probably not. I still had a few errands to run before I leave town tomorrow, so I had to fit them in this afternoon."

  
"Were you able to accomplish all of them?"

  
"Yeah. Why?"

  
He smiled softly. "Because I wouldn’t have wanted to keep you from your errands. And I’m very grateful that you took the time to talk to me when you had so many other things to do."

  
She blushed and shook her head. "No, I didn’t mind. Really."

  
He picked up his cup and took a sip, watching her over the rim. "In fact, if I had come an hour later, I wouldn’t have seen you at all. You might almost think it was fate."

  
She frowned. "Fate? I don’t understand. It wasn’t as if there was anything significant about it, was there?"

  
"There was to me."

  
Her heart began racing at the look in his eyes, and it was all she could do to remember to breathe. "Mr. Straker . . ."

  
He leaned forward, searching her face. "I felt something when we met. A connection. Didn’t you?"

  
She stared at him, unsure what to say. She’d been telling herself all afternoon that she’d imagined the response she’d had to his presence at the gallery. It had been so strong – and so unlike her. But now he was saying that he’d felt it too. "I . . ."

  
He reached out and covered her hand with his. "Forgive me. I’m rushing you. And after I promised myself I wouldn’t. Please. We’ll just let it go, shall we?" He released her hand and sat back, taking another sip of his tea. "How are you enjoying your meal?"

  
Cait felt utterly bewildered by him. And by the way her body seemed to respond to him of its own accord – as if it already knew what it would be like to be in his arms. It was very disconcerting. "It’s fine," she managed to say, and took another bite. But her hand in her lap still felt the warmth of his touch.

  
And it trembled.

  
***

  
When they finally left the restaurant, he asked, "Will you allow me to see you to your hotel?"

  
Cait flushed. "Yes, of course."

  
"Thank you," he said as if she was conferring an honor upon him, and her flush deepened.

  
Once they were on the road and she had given him the name of her hotel, she said, "I should apologize for not allowing you to pick me up tonight. I didn’t really think you were an axe murderer or anything like that. It was just that . . ."

  
"You didn’t know me," he finished for her. "It’s quite alright, Cait. I understand."

  
"Then . . . I didn’t offend you?"

  
"Not in the least."

  
"Oh."

  
He smiled at her. "It’s not a safe world for a beautiful woman. Being cautious is a good thing. You can never be too careful."

  
She nodded agreement, too stunned by his casual reference to her as beautiful to be able to come up with a coherent response.

  
When they pulled up to the front entrance of her hotel, he waved away the valet and turned to her in the seat. "Cait, thank you for a delightful evening. I’m only sorry that we can’t do it again tomorrow night as well." He took her hand. "Do you visit London often?"

  
Cait was certain that he could hear how loudly her heart was pounding, and she tried unsuccessfully to quiet it. "Um, no. Not really. Usually only a few times a year for gallery openings and shows."

  
"I was afraid of that."

  
She gulped. It couldn’t be possible that he wanted to see her again, but he seemed so sincere. "I . . . suppose I could make the trip more often."

  
His irresistible grin flashed. "You are too kind to me. But I was thinking. I have a lot of vacation time that I’ve never used for one reason or another. Perhaps if I came to Scotland on holiday, you would consent to have dinner with me again?"

  
"I’d love to," she said, blushing madly. "And if you were to stay in the Highlands for a few days, maybe I could show you around my particular corner of the world."

  
He raised his other hand and lightly touched her cheek, sending shivers throughout her body. "That is an invitation I shall definitely take you up on. Thank you, Cait." He leaned closer and kissed her, a gentle meeting of the lips that struck her senses with the force of a lightning bolt. When he sat back, she stared at him in shock, still in sensory overload.

  
He touched her cheek again. "Good night, Cait."

  
"Good night . . . Ed." She got out of the car in a daze and never afterward remembered walking into the hotel.

  
***

  
Straker headed for the studio instead of heading home. He might as well put all this excess energy to good use and get some work done. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep tonight. His body ached with longing, and his mind insisted on playing back every word she’d spoken, every expression on her lovely face – to torment him with what he couldn’t have.

  
His carphone beeped, interrupting his fevered thoughts. "Straker," he answered a little grimly.

  
"Commander," said Lt. Ford from HQ’s night shift. "We have a sighting."

  
"I’m on my way."

  
****

Chapter 3

  
When Cait entered the gallery in the morning, Antoine and Charlene pounced on her.

  
"Well?" demanded her friend. "How was it? How was he? I couldn’t even sleep last night wondering how it went!"

  
Cait shrugged, flushing slightly. She hadn’t slept much herself. "It was fine. He was . . . very nice."

  
"Nuh-uh!" said Antoine with a shake of a finger. "You are not going to fob us off with that lame description, girl! Now, sit right down and tell us everything. And don’t leave out a single detail!"

  
They had dragged her into Charlene’s office by this time and unceremoniously dropped her into a chair. Then they both leaned against the desk with arms folded, facing her.

  
"Well? Spill it!" Charlene demanded when Cait just stared at them.

  
"Look. I just came in to say good-bye. My train leaves in an hour, and I need to get to the station. I don’t have time for this."

  
"Make time," Antoine said, his rich New Orleans voice uncharacteristically stern for a moment. But he couldn’t sustain it, so he dropped the militant pose and cast himself at her feet, holding on to her hand as if he’d never let go. "Please, Cait! Have pity on me! A man like that is way too uptight to look twice at this girl. The only way I’m ever going to know what he’s like is vicariously through someone else. And that someone is you! Please, please, _please! _Give me some morsel to liven up my sad little dreams!"

  
Cait grinned. "Antoine, you are such a girly girl!"

  
"That I am, sugar."

  
She sighed and patted his hand. "Alright. But it wasn’t anything like you’re probably expecting. We just talked about art mostly, and about ourselves."

  
"Ooooh! What did he say about himself?" he begged.

  
Her flush deepened. "I’m not telling you what he said! It was private."

  
Antoine wailed. "But how will I recreate it in my dreams if you give me nothing to go on? Girlfriend, I need deets! At least tell me the vaguest details of the subjects he told you about. You know: his movies, his costars, his mistresses."

  
"It wasn’t like that," she said. "He asked about growing up in the Highlands, and then told me a little about what it was like to grow up in Boston. It was a very ordinary conversation. He didn’t act like some hotshot film producer at all."

  
"You’re kidding!" Charlene was obviously disappointed.

  
Cait shrugged again. "I’m telling you, it wasn’t at all like you would expect for a man in his position. He was quite normal really. And very nice."

  
"Well – that just sucks!" her friend said. "It seriously was just a business date? Didn’t he even come on to you?"

  
Cait’s blush betrayed her, and Antoine, who had been getting to his feet, noticed it.

  
"Ah, ha!" he said, pointing a finger at her. "He did want more than to talk about art! What did he do? Did he proposition you? Tell us everything!"

  
Cait stood up, shaking her head. "I have to get to the train station. You two just go ahead and think whatever you want. I had a lovely time, and I don’t need you picking it apart and spoiling it for me."

  
Charlene shared a dismayed look with Antoine before running after her. She caught up with her at the front entrance and said, "Cait! Wait a minute!"

  
"What?"

  
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across that way. You’re my best friend. It’s just . . . you haven’t been on a date in years, and even though you’ve been separated from Seamus for a while now, you haven’t shown any desire to get back into that scene. I’ve been worried about you."

  
Cait met her eyes unhappily. "No one interested me."

  
Charlene grimaced. "Yeah, well. I get that. But he did, didn’t he? Ed Straker. He did interest you."

  
"Yes." It was so much more than mere interest, but she could hardly admit to her friend that she had lost all sense of reason and fallen headlong in love with a man who worked in a profession she despised. Damn it! She didn’t even believe in love at first sight!

  
"Did he treat you right, Cait? He didn’t upset you or anything, did he?"

  
"No, Charlene. He was a perfect gentleman. I don’t think he’d know how to upset someone. He even understood why I didn’t let him pick me up at the hotel."

  
"Really? Oh. That’s good!" Charlene searched her friend’s face for a moment, then said, "You’ll call when you get home, won’t you? Just so I know you got there safely?"

  
"Yes. Of course, I will."

  
They hugged each other, saying their good-byes, then Cait walked away. Charlene let the glass door close and met the eyes of Antoine, who stood a few feet away. He followed her into the office, but didn’t speak until he had closed the door.

  
"Do you think he might have forced her into doing something she wasn’t ready for?" he asked worriedly.

  
Charlene shook her head as she sat behind her desk. "No. Cait hasn’t had sex in so long, it would be fairly obvious to both of us if she’d had any last night. No, I think something much more serious happened."

  
Antoine raised his hands in denial. "No! Oh, no!"

  
"Yes. I think she fell for him."

  
"Oh, girl! Don’t she understand? Men like that don’t get serious about anyone. Their work is their only real love. Did he tell her he would stay in touch with her? Did that bastard lie and leave her hoping?"

  
Charlene frowned. "I don’t know. She didn’t say. Hopefully, when she calls me tonight, she’ll tell me more. But damn it, Antoine! She’s got enough on her plate right now with Seamus breathing down her neck! She doesn’t need any more emotional upsets!"

  
"You can’t worry about it, Charlene," he advised. "Cait’s a big girl. With a very sensible head on her shoulders. She’ll get over this. You got to believe that."

  
"Would you?" she asked simply.

  
"Get over him?" Antoine asked, his hand going to his breast at the thought. Then he met her eyes and slumped, admitting defeat. "Hell, no!"

  
***

  
Six days later, Alec Freeman confronted his commander in his HQ office. "Ed, you can’t go."

  
"Excuse me?"

  
Col. Freeman grimaced at hearing that icy tone, but persevered anyway. It was always difficult to stand up to his best friend, but sometimes it was necessary. Like now. "Look. Col. Lake’s already there. If there’s anything to find, she’ll find it. There’s no need for you to go too."

  
Straker’s lips compressed as he sat back in his leather chair. "That’s exactly why I need to go. Col. Lake has had nearly a month to find out why the aliens are targeting Loch Mhor and the surrounding area. And she’s come up with nothing. Nothing! How many UFO sightings have we had in the past month, Alec?"

  
"Seven."

  
"And out of those seven, how many of them were headed for Scotland?"

  
The colonel sighed. "Seven."

  
"Then don’t you think it’s time I went there to find out what’s going on?" demanded the commander waspishly.

  
"But that’s just it, Ed! It would be incredibly foolish for you to go out there when they’re already targeting the area. What if one of them got though our defense grid? We can’t risk you."

  
Straker leaned forward earnestly. "Alec, one of the reasons I’m so indispensable around here is that I have the ability to second guess them. Figure out what they’re up to and keep them from succeeding. Am I right?"

  
"Yeah." Freeman could see where this argument was going. The way they all went. It was futile to go up against a man who could twist anything you said around to make his point. Damn it.

  
"Well, so far I haven’t been able to come up with any reason for them to be targeting that area. At least, not with the data we have on hand. And Col. Lake hasn’t found anything to help us figure out what they’re up to either. So, what are my choices, Alec? Let them continue trying to reach Scotland and hope that they’ll eventually give up? Or go out there myself and see if, maybe by being on the spot, I can find out what’s going on?"

  
"But, Ed. What will you be able to do that Ginny hasn’t already tried?"

  
Straker sighed. "The Scots are a closemouthed people, Alec. The locals tend to shy away from strangers. And I have a feeling that since nothing has turned up yet onsite, we won’t find what we’re looking for unless we can talk to them. And it just so happens that I have contacts in the Highlands."

  
The colonel frowned at him. "Who do you know in Scotland?"

  
But the commander just smiled at him.

  
***

  
"Thank you for having dinner with me again."

  
Cait shrugged, toying with her wine glass. "It’s not the Criterion."

  
The grin that she’d been dreaming about flashed. "Perhaps not," he said. "But the food is delicious."

  
Her eyes searched his for a moment, but when she saw that he was sincere, she relaxed and said, "Oh, I get it. You’re not a restaurant snob, after all. You’re a food snob."

  
Straker looked momentarily surprised, then his grin widened. "Aren’t we all?"

  
Cait laughed. "Well, you have me there."

  
"I wanted to thank you for telling me about your friend’s Bed and Breakfast place."

  
"I was happy to help. Actually, I wasn’t sure you would want to stay in a small place like that. It just seemed like one of the big hotels would be more in your line."

  
Straker sat back in his chair and steadily regarded her. "I suppose it might. On occasion. Hotels do have their uses. But I’ve dreamed about visiting Scotland for years. And a hotel’s not the way to go about discovering a new land. It would take all the adventure out of it."

  
"You’ve dreamed of Scotland?"

  
His smile was very warm. "Yes. For years now."

  
Unaccountably, she blushed and lowered her eyes. Sometimes what he said seemed to be so much more than the words themselves. It was very odd. As if they bypassed her mind altogether and spoke directly to her heart. And she had learned long ago not to trust her heart.

  
It lied.

  
She swallowed and said, "Are Sarah and Malcolm treating you well?"

  
"Oh, yes. I’m afraid I’ve been pestering them nonstop with questions about the area. They will no doubt tire of me long before I tire of their hospitality."

  
"If you have an idea of what you’d like to see while you’re here, I’d be happy to tell you how to go about it."

  
He lightly laid his hand over hers on the table. "That won’t do at all. If I remember correctly, I was promised a full tour, complete with tour guide."

  
She couldn’t seem to have a single conversation with him without blushing like a schoolgirl! It made her feel nearly overwhelmed, but she nonetheless replied with only a hint of breathlessness, "Where would you like to go first?"

  
　

**Chapter 4**

  
He entered the small command post just before midnight and greeted Col. Lake.

  
"Sir," she said as he began poring over the maps they’d drawn up of the region. "With all due respect, you shouldn’t have come to Scotland."

  
Straker gave her a cool glance before going back to the maps. He could still feel the pressure of Cait’s lips against his as they had said good night at her door. And her taste, which both soothed him and left him aching. "Actually, Colonel. I’m exactly where I need to be. Do you have an update on your last report for me?"

  
She sighed. "No, sir. Because there’s nothing new to report. We’ve sounded as much of the loch as possible given the murky conditions. It’s best done during daylight hours when a portion of the water has been pumped out. However, doing it in the daytime has its own problems, as you can imagine."

  
The commander acknowledged this with a small ‘hmmm.’ Then those piercing blue eyes met hers. "What about Loch Ness? It’s only about two miles from here, isn’t it? Isn’t that where the pumping station sends the water?"

  
"Yes, but if you think we’re going to be able to sound that loch, you’ve forgotten how large it is."

  
Straker frowned for a moment. "Isn’t Ness along the Great Glen Fault? These lochs were all formed by glaciation, weren’t they?"

  
"Yes. Which is why we have the hills surrounding them. Although how anyone could call these hills, I don’t know."

  
He grinned. "Your Appalachian roots are showing, Colonel. Have the teams found any evidence of alien activity in the hills?"

  
"No, sir." She was furious with him for coming out here to Stratherrick and exposing himself to possible capture should the aliens get past their defenses and land. Finding them once they’d gone to ground would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, which she had already seen from their search of the area. "We’ve had fly-overs on the worst of the terrain and several teams of two covering the hills for weeks. We’ve found nothing. It’s desolate area, sir."

  
"On the contrary, Colonel. These forests make it very fertile area. And ideal for hiding one small UFO."

  
"Yes, sir. But they would never have survived this long without being underwater."

  
"True. Which is why it would be advantageous for us to know what lies at the bottom of this loch. As well as Loch Ness."

  
Unexpectedly, she grinned at him. "Well. People have been wanting to know that for years!"

  
Straker looked briefly startled, then he smiled when he realized what she was referring to. "You’re right, Colonel." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "It would just be so much better if we knew whether they had a ship down there."

  
She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. But he only regarded it broodingly for a moment, then sighed and set it down.

  
He pointed to one of the maps of Loch Mhor. "What about this crannog, Colonel?"

  
"We’ve checked it out as much as we were able. There’s nothing there. It’s interesting, if you like ancient lake dwellings. But we didn’t find anything more modern than the stone age. Sir, we’ve been all over this loch. If you want my gut feeling after all our searching, it would have to be that there isn’t a ship down there. They’d have needed to surface by now in order to collect whatever they’re here for. And we haven’t seen any sign of them in an entire month of watching out for them. They’re not here."

  
The commander held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. Break camp here, pull your teams out of the mountains, and head back to HQ. But keep the fly-overs for another week, just in case."

  
"Commander, as much as I appreciate your faith in my gut, I’m not pulling out and leaving you here alone."

  
He took one look at her grim expression and said, "Very well. Send most of the teams back, but keep a few to patrol the loch and its shores. If we’re not looking for a ship, then we’re looking for something else."

  
She was startled. "What?"

  
His expression was as grim as hers had been when he answered, "_That_ is what we need to find out."

  
***

  
Straker and Cait spent the morning near Dores, viewing the collection of standing stones on the Aldourie estate. Straker found their enigmatic surfaces intriguing and could not refrain from following the circle around its diameter, touching each of the eighteen stones in turn. He was surprised that each one had a different feel to it, almost as if there was something about them that made them individual other than their varying sizes. But they were clearly made of the same stone, and he eventually decided that the air in Scotland was making him fanciful.

  
But he recalled as they were leaving that Stonehenge had given him the same sensation.

  
They picnicked near a set of hut circles near the southwestern shore of Loch Mhor. Cait’s friend Sarah from the Bed and Breakfast had packed them a lunch fit for royalty, and they had worked up an appetite from all their hiking. The loch looked beautiful from their vantage point, but he found himself constantly searching its surface for any clues to what might lie beneath.

  
"You’re fortunate to live in such an unspoiled area," he told her while he sipped his tea from the cap to the thermos Sarah had packed.

  
Cait smiled at him. He looked so relaxed as he sat on the blanket, holding his cup in his lean hand as if he spent all his time picnicking. But she knew he didn’t. Couldn’t, in fact, if he was as busy as he had to be to garner so many awards. "It’s a far cry from civilization, isn’t it?"

  
He grinned and gestured to the hut circles nearby. "I guess that depends on your definition of civilization. The people who built these homes back in the stone age would have considered themselves in the lap of luxury. Plenty of fresh water, food walking by their doorstep every day, and a view worth fighting for."

  
He was a constant surprise to her. But then, she realized that he only surprised her when she was thinking of him as a film producer. When she accepted him as the man he was showing himself to be, she merely found him endlessly fascinating. He had a mind that saw everything – and into everything – so that it was almost as if he was immersing himself in the smallest details of all that he studied. Almost like a scientist might, she supposed. Or perhaps, an actor who was extremely gifted.

  
He appealed to her on a level that went far beyond an artist’s appreciation of a friend who saw the world in an much detail as they did. And she was finding it very difficult to remind herself that their separate worlds really weren’t very compatible. Especially when he smiled at her.

  
"You make it sound like a paradise," she said.

  
His blue eyes gazed intently at her over his cup. "Paradise is where you find it."

  
***

  
They followed the shoreline down around the southern end of the loch and made their way toward Cait’s home on the eastern shore. Straker was in no hurry for their day together to end, and he paused often to watch deer graze or to pick up an interesting pebble or two. Cait would watch him each time as he’d gaze into the heart of the small stone as if the mysteries of the universe hid inside. Then he would smile softly and slide the pebble into his pants pocket. By the time they neared her house, he had quite a collection.

  
He’d been telling her about stealing away as a boy during summer days to go lobster fishing with the seasoned seamen off the bay. She could visualize it very clearly from his descriptions and wanted to hear more, but he had just placed another pebble into his pocket and she couldn’t stop herself from interrupting him.

  
"Ed?"

  
"Yes?"

  
"What are the pebbles for?"

  
"The – ? Oh!" He flushed suddenly, looking for all the world like the little boy he’d been talking about. Then he shrugged, grinning ruefully. "I’m a bit like a magpie, I suppose. I like to collect bits and pieces of things. It used to drive my mother crazy when she’d turn out my pockets at night."

  
Cait laughed. "Oh, yes! I know exactly how that is! My mother used to tell me that if I was going to be constantly filling my room with bric-a-brac, I had to put them all in one place."

  
"Did you?" he asked with a smile.

  
"Yes. I had a small bookshelf I devoted entirely to my ‘junk’, as she called it."

  
"I had a small wooden box that opened with a key," he said wryly.

  
"A treasure box!" she said with a grin.

  
He laughed, flushing slightly at being found to be such an imaginative child. "Yes. I suppose it was."

  
"Do you still have it?"

  
He met her eyes in surprise, then shook his head ruefully and walked on, not answering.

  
She chuckled and caught at his hand, swinging it in hers as they continued on their walk. "It’s okay," she assured him softly. "I won’t tell."

  
He turned at that and just stared at her for a moment. But before she could ask him why, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He’d kissed her twice before, both times when he’d said good night, and both times it had been a gentle meeting of the lips that had an impact on her senses far beyond what it should have.

  
But this time it was no gentle kiss. He held her close, her head cradled firmly between his hands and his lips devouring hers as if drinking in her very soul. And she couldn’t help but respond to his fervor, clinging to him trembling, her arms around his back and her hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

  
Then they were staring at each other, breathing hard and still trembling, clinging to each other without even being aware that they were.

  
"Cait!" he whispered, his blue eyes burning into hers, and she shivered deeply, recognizing him on a level that approached consciousness.

  
"Ed, I . . ."

  
"Shhh." He laid a finger across her lips to silence her. Then he sighed deeply and released her, stepping back and striving to normalize his breathing. "Forgive me," he said quietly. "I’m rushing you again."

  
She ached everywhere and only wanted to be back in his arms. But she understood his reluctance to rush into things – and was grateful for his restraint. There was too much they didn’t know about each other. And too much they needed to know before they decided if they would ever take their relationship to the next level.

  
But – oh! – how she wished she could abandon her common sense for an hour!

  
They reached her house in silence, but when he went to leave her there, she spoke. "Ed. Can we talk?"

  
Straker knew she didn’t mean the kind of talking they’d been doing all day, getting to know each other. And although part of him was thrilled that she wanted to speak of important things with him, the rest of him was dismayed that he was deepening their relationship to the point where she might begin remembering things from before. And he dreaded that more than anything. Not even because she would surely despise him for what he’d done, but because he knew how harsh security could be in dealing with any possible leak. But when he met her eyes and saw how torn and confused she looked, he couldn’t deny her.

  
"Alright."

  
They sat at her kitchen table, and she brewed some tea. But when he tasted it, it didn’t taste like the weak tea he’d been drinking for a month now. "What is this?" he asked.

  
She smiled as she sipped from her cup. "Chamomile. It’s an herbal tea: my favorite blend. It promotes relaxation and an opening of the senses."

  
He took another sip. "It’s very soothing."

  
"Yes. I use it to unwind after a long day. Afterward I can usually paint with a clear head and renewed energy."

  
Straker remembered Dr. Jackson’s question about whether he used alcohol to unwind. Maybe that was his problem. He never did unwind. He took another sip of the tea, trying to decide whether he liked it or not.

  
She sighed and set down her cup. "Ed, I don’t know what you’re used to with the women you date, but I’m not the kind of person who could handle a quick roll in the hay, no harm, no foul."

  
"Cait, if you were, I wouldn’t be here now," he told her.

  
She looked at him in surprise, then grimaced slightly. "I’m finding it very hard to reconcile who you are with the way you seem to me."

  
Unexpectedly, he smiled at that. "Sometimes I do too," he admitted.

  
"Oh?"

  
He sat back. "I thoroughly enjoy being a film producer. Every time I sign my name to a new script, I feel like I’m embarking on a fresh adventure – one that could take me places I’ve never experienced before. And that’s exciting to me.

  
"However, the downside of that is that film producers as a group have a very shady reputation. It’s not one I share or even wish to share, but nonetheless I’m aware that I am often seen in that light by those I deal with on a daily basis. It can be somewhat annoying at times, even irritating as hell occasionally, because I’m serious about my work and dislike being taken for a playboy type. But with you, it’s been an even bigger problem, because I respect you greatly and it’s obvious you don’t think much of me because of what I do for a living."

  
"That’s just it, Ed," she said. "You don’t act like a film producer at all. Sometimes it’s all I can do to remind myself of your line of work."

  
"And do you find it necessary to remind yourself of my line of work often?" he asked, one brow raised.

  
She grinned. "Yes."

  
"Why?"

  
"Because you fluster me. And I’m not used to being flustered. So I think – okay, it’s just because I’m starstruck or something."

  
He smiled at her. "You don’t seem to me the type of woman who gets starstruck, Cait."

  
"That’s because I’m not. Usually."

  
He gazed at her for a long moment, the soft smile still lingering on his lips. "Maybe the fact that I fluster you has nothing at all to do with my profession. Have you considered that possibility?"

  
She dropped her eyes. "Yes."

  
"And?"

  
"That only makes me more flustered."

  
He was surprised into a chuckle. "Why would it do that?" he asked in bewilderment.

  
She bravely met his eyes once more. "Because it means that I feel too much for you when I barely know you. Because I don’t believe in that. Love at first sight only happens in the movies."

  
"Which I suppose would make me an expert on it," he said facetiously.

  
She grinned. "Are you?"

  
"No. I’ve never personally experienced love at first sight."

  
"See?"

  
"But I have experienced something similar."

  
"What?" she asked suspiciously.

  
He leaned forward earnestly, his eyes on hers. "I have experienced falling in love on first meeting someone."

  
Her heart started racing, and she said a bit breathlessly, "Oh? When?"

  
He sat back with a soft smile. "Last week at the gallery. When I talked with you about your art."

  
She shook her head. "No. That’s not possible."

  
"Why not?"

  
She swallowed. How could she admit that she’d felt the same? Things didn’t happen that way. _Love_ didn’t happen that way! At least, not any love she’d ever known.

  
"Cait?"

  
She met his gaze, her lips firm in denial, but her expressive grey eyes telling their own tale.

  
He sighed, and there was silence at the table for a while as they drank their tea.

  
Finally she said, "I just got a divorce, Ed. My life’s in a bit of a shambles at the moment. I don’t want to do anything stupid on the rebound."

  
"I’m sorry, Cait. Divorce can be extremely painful. Please don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m pushing you too hard in any way. It’s difficult not to rush ahead when I know where I want to go with you. But I would never forgive myself if I rushed you into something you weren’t ready for emotionally."

  
She stared at him in surprise, caught by his tone. "You’ve been divorced?"

  
"Yes."

  
There was a wealth of emotion behind that one word, but Cait swallowed and persevered. "How long ago?"

  
"Thirteen years," he said quietly. "How soon for you?"

  
"Just this month," she said, then elaborated. "Well, Seamus and I have been separated for over two years. But we’ve only just finalized the divorce."

  
"Were you the one who asked for it, or was he?"

  
She grimaced. "Actually, neither of us."

  
"Oh?" he asked, both brows raising this time.

  
She shrugged. "His new girlfriend wanted it. She can’t wait to be the new Mrs. McGregor."

  
"I see."

  
"Yeah. She can have it, as far as I’m concerned."

  
He grinned at her tone. "It didn’t do much for you?" he asked, relieved to realize that she’d never signed her artwork under that name.

  
"Not even by accident," she said bluntly.

  
He chuckled. But after a moment, he said, "Cait, if you don’t mind my saying so, it sounds to me as if you’ve already begun to get over him and put him out of your life. If that’s true, I don’t think you have to worry about being on the rebound."

  
"Oh, I’ve been over him for a lot longer than we’ve been separated, Ed, if you want the truth of it," she said unexpectedly.

  
"Then where’s the problem?"

  
She sighed bitterly. "Because putting him out of my life isn’t as easy as it sounds on paper. We have a daughter. And that means that he’s allowed to harass me one way or another for the rest of my life."

  
　

**Chapter 5**

  
"You seem very nervous all of a sudden."

  
She stopped pacing and turned to him with a grimace. "I’m just not so sure it’s a good idea for you to meet her after all."

  
Straker frowned. "You asked me to stay until she got back from her visit with your parents. Have you changed your mind?"

  
"No. Yes. I don’t know." Cait looked at him worriedly. "Shannon’s twelve. It’s a difficult age. I mean, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to meet you, which was why I thought to ask you."

  
"But?"

  
She sighed. "But she might go all hyper on you because you’re a famous actor. And I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of her."

  
He smiled and came to her, taking her hands in his and leading her back to the deck chair. "Cait. Please sit. Relax. I’m quite used to dealing with exuberant fans. I’ll be fine. And I promise that I won’t get the wrong impression of Shannon."

  
"Okay," she said, taking his advice and trying to relax. "Just don’t say I didn’t warn you."

  
He grinned at her. "Shannon’s your daughter, Cait, so I have no doubt that she’ll be just as level-headed as her mother."

  
She gave him a look from under her brows. "Obviously, you don’t deal very often with twelve year old girls." She saw the car pulling into the drive and stood up, walking down the lawn to meet them as they got out.

  
"Da! Mom! Hello!" She embraced her father as he got out of the driver’s side, then her mother as she came around the car

  
"Mom! Look!" Shannon climbed out of the back seat and showed off her ears. "Nana took me to get my ears pierced!"

  
Cait lifted a hand and checked out the small diamond posts attached to her daughter’s earlobes, but she said nothing.

  
Shannon’s grin faltered when she saw that there were tears in her mother’s eyes. "Mom? What’s wrong?"

  
Cait smiled. "Nothing, sweetie. It’s a right of passage. My little girl is all grown up now. Tomorrow you’ll be wanting the keys to the car."

  
Mr. Kerr chuckled, and Shannon said, "Really? Can I drive?"

  
Cait ruffled her daughter’s blonde hair. "No. Now come and meet Mr. Straker."

  
Shannon’s eyes widened to their fullest extent when she saw who was standing on her mother’s patio. "Oh man oh man oh man!" she muttered as she went with her mother to shake hands.

  
"Hello, Shannon," Straker said, pleased to see that she had her mother’s shy smile. But he was somewhat disconcerted that she had eyes of a very familiar blue.

  
She giggled nervously. "Hi! Um, I loved it when you played Orlando! We’re studying Shakespeare’s plays at school, and Mr. Turner showed us the movie. You were wonderful!"

  
He smiled. "Thank you. It’s kind of you to say so. That was one of the first roles I ever played."

  
"Really?"

  
Cait said, "Mom, Dad, this is Ed Straker. He’s visiting the Highlands for a few days."

  
Straker shook their hands. "Mr. And Mrs. Kerr. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You have a very gifted daughter."

  
"Why, thank you, Mr. Straker," said Mrs. Kerr. "We think she is. Cait tells me that you’ve bought some of her work."

  
"Yes, I have."

  
"Do you like artists?" she asked.

  
He met her shrewd eyes and realized that he was being cross-examined. It almost made him grin. He’d expected it of Cait’s father, but Mr. Kerr was busy taking his granddaughter’s bags into the house. "Not usually," he admitted. "Artists tend to be too temperamental for my taste."

  
"I heard that!" Cait called from inside the house, where she was listening to her daughter tell her all about her visit with her grandparents.

  
Straker couldn’t help it. He grinned. "But Cait isn’t," he continued calmly. "In fact, I find her company quite soothing."

  
Mrs. Kerr practically preened. "Well! She gets that from her mother, you know."

  
Cait stood in the doorway and said, "Don’t believe her for a minute, Ed. I get it from my Da."

  
"Cait!" her mother pouted.

  
"Sorry, Mom. Truth is truth."

  
Straker chuckled. "I’m certain that Cait got her special qualities from both her parents."

  
"Why, thank you, Mr. Straker," Mrs. Kerr said, turning her back on her daughter.

  
Her husband came out of the house, saw his wife’s blushes, and said, "Alright, Dorie. Is the man trying to turn your head? I’ll have you know, Mr. Straker, that she’s a married woman."

  
He smiled, happy to be in the presence of such a jovial family. "And I’m sure you are constantly reminding men of that fact, Mr. Kerr." He looked around as Cait and Shannon came outside and said, "You seem to have surrounded yourself with beautiful women. How do you cope?"

  
"Cut it out!" Cait said with a blush.

  
But her daughter grinned and said, "Really? I’m beautiful?" And didn’t understand it when they all laughed.

  
"Are you married, Mr. Straker?" asked Dorie.

  
His grin widened, and Cait said, "Mom! Not another word!"

  
Mr. Kerr gave his daughter a hug, then shook Straker’s hand once more. Then he took his wife by the arm and steered her to the car, saying, "Come along, Dorie. You’ve caused enough trouble for one day. Let’s go home!"

  
She sputtered as he led her away. "Bernard! I don’t know what you mean! I was just being sociable."

  
"Bye, Mom!" called Cait as the car backed out of the drive.

  
"Bye, Nana! Bye, Gramps!" Shannon yelled, waving furiously as the car drove off. Then she turned back to Straker and said, "Did you mean that? Am I beautiful?"

  
"Shannon!" her mother said. "You don’t go around asking people that."

  
"Then how else will I know?"

  
Straker chuckled. "She has a point, Cait."

  
"You hush! I’ve never heard so much flummery in my life! Is that how you get things done at your studio?"

  
He winked at Shannon and said, "Whatever works, Cait. Whatever works."

  
Shannon giggled. "Mom, is Mr. Straker staying to dinner?"

  
Cait met his eyes. "Well?"

  
One brow raised. "Is that an invitation?"

  
She chuckled and gestured to her daughter. "If you think you can handle the racket this one makes."

  
"Mom!"

  
Straker grinned at Shannon. "You forget, Cait. I work in a film studio. I’m used to noise."

  
Shannon giggled again.

  
***

  
After dinner, Shannon went off to her room to unpack while her mother put the dishes into the sink for washing up. Straker remained at the kitchen table, sipping his chamomile tea, and watched her while they discussed how he wanted to spend his vacation time.

  
"You really shouldn’t have told her you’d do it," she said as she squirted dish soap into the water.

  
He smiled at her over his cup. "Why not? I promise not to embarrass her."

  
"Oh, Ed! You know that’s not what I meant. You’re on holiday! You’re supposed to be enjoying your time off work, not spending the day in a school talking to a bunch of kids."

  
"I enjoy talking about Shakespeare, Cait. It’s something I rarely get the chance to do, and his plays had a major impact on my life and choice of career. I’m thrilled that her teacher agreed to let me come and speak to the students tomorrow. It’s an opportunity I don’t intend to miss out on."

  
She met his eyes, her own a little troubled. "You know as well as I do that she talked you into it. Please, Ed. Don’t feel like you have to say yes, just because she’s my daughter."

  
He stood up and brought his cup to the sink for her to wash. Then he laid a hand on her cheek, bringing her close for a soft kiss.

  
After he released her, her head felt as if it had spun off and was swirling around near the ceiling, so it took her a few minutes to realize that he had picked up a dish towel and was drying the dishes she’d put in the strainer. "What are you doing?"

  
He gave her an inquiring look. "Drying up."

  
"But – you can’t!" She was aghast that he would consider doing such a menial task.

  
He raised a brow at her in the way he had that made her feel remarkably foolish. "I assure you, I know how to dry dishes. I’ve been doing it for most of my life."

  
"Ed! You know what I meant!"

  
He calmly continued drying. "No. I’m afraid I don’t."

  
She huffed. "You’re a guest. You don’t have to help clean up."

  
His smile was very sweet. "But I enjoy helping you."

  
She shook her head at him, a rueful smile on her lips. "Does anyone ever win an argument against you?"

  
At that, he laughed. "Now you sound like Alec."

  
"Who’s he?"

  
"My best friend. You two should meet. I think you’d get along just fine. He too is always telling me that I shouldn’t be doing something or other."

  
Cait put her hands on her hips. "I take it that he also never gets you to see reason."

  
He grinned at her, his blue eyes dancing. "Not so far anyway."

  
She went back to washing, trying to accept his assistance as if it were a normal thing to have a famous person drying her dishes. "You’re a fraud, Ed Straker."

  
"Oh?"

  
She nodded. "You come across as so very agreeable and nice, but underneath all that is a man who is quite determined to get his own way and who has quite a few charming ways to go about it."

  
He thought for a moment. Then he said, "Why, thank you, Cait. I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me."

  
She sighed. "I rest my case."

  
After a while, she said quietly, "You really won’t mind going to her school tomorrow?"

  
"I really won’t mind," he assured her.

  
"Then I’ll just say thank you."

  
"You’re welcome. But it’s really my pleasure, you know."

  
Her grey eyes searched his face. Then she said, "I think you mean that."

  
"I do."

  
"Well, I should warn you, I suppose. She’ll probably be a fan for life now."

  
He chuckled. "I think I can handle it."

  
She wiped her hands on a towel and came closer to him, laying her hands on his chest and looking up into his face. "And me too. I have a feeling I’m going to be a fan for life too. Can you handle that?"

  
He gathered her into his arms with a grin. "Oh, yes. I would very much like to handle that."

  
***

  
When he’d said good night and walked away, Cait remained on the patio a while longer and stared at the loch in the moonlight. The day in retrospect took on a note of unreality as she looked back on it. Had she really spent the day with him, hiking around her small corner of Scotland with a famous actor and producer? Had he really been as charming and normal as he’d seemed? Or was she so in love she couldn’t see him straight?

  
"Mom?"

  
She turned and saw her daughter in the doorway. "What is it, baby? Can’t sleep?"

  
Shannon came outside and stood with her on the patio. "No. I’m too excited, I guess. I can’t wait to tell everyone at school that Ed Straker had dinner at my house! And it’s just so cool that he’s going to talk to my English class about Shakespeare. I can hardly believe it! He’s really nice, isn’t he?"

  
Cait sighed. "Yes, he is nice."

  
"You like him, don’t you?"

  
"Yes, of course I – oh." She took a good look at her daughter, who was trying her best to be nonchalant and failing miserably. Cait took a deep breath and said, "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. Is that okay with you?"

  
Shannon shrugged. "It’s a little weird. But I don’t mind. I like how he smiles at you. It makes me feel all gooey inside."

  
Yeah, well. It made Cait feel all gooey inside too, if the truth were known. But she wasn’t about to admit that to her twelve year old daughter. "Why do you find it weird, sweetie?"

  
"Well . . . I guess because I was kinda in love with him myself. You know, from his role as Orlando when he was younger. He was just so dreamy!"

  
Cait chuckled and put her arm around her daughter’s shoulder as they stood and looked at the loch in the moonlight. "Oh, yeah. I quite understand dreamy."

  
***

  
"Well?" Straker barked as he paced the office at the command post. "What have you got?"

  
Col. Lake didn’t know what this man had done to warrant the commander checking up on him, especially since he hadn’t lived in the Highlands for over two years, so surely he wasn’t involved in their current crisis. But apparently he had raised enough flags to interest Straker. And she knew better than to ask stupid questions. She pulled up all available data on him on her computer. "He has a flat in London. Lives there with his current girlfriend, one Marcy Schloss. Do you want the list of prior girlfriends?"

  
"No." Straker brooded over the photo of Seamus McGregor she had printed out for him. He was a large man with a pugnacious chin and the eyes of a beagle. And he had hair as black as his exwife’s. "Anything on the legal front?" he asked tersely, remembering that Cait had said he was harassing her.

  
The colonel checked a few different screens on her computer, then said, "Yes. He has a suit on file at the courthouse to revoke his child support pending the results of a paternity test."

  
"_What?_"

  
She looked up, surprised by his tone. "Sir?"

  
Straker took a deep breath and said as calmly as he could, "He’s denying he’s the girl’s father?"

  
Virginia glanced back at the monitor, then nodded. "Yes."

  
"I see."

  
He said nothing more, but merely stood in the middle of the office staring off into space for several minutes. She didn’t know what this information meant to their investigation, but whatever it was, it had seriously upset the commander. And that couldn’t be good. "Do you want me to send someone from HQ to haul him in for questioning?"

  
_Oh, if only!_ Straker thought viciously. He had a number of questions he’d like to ask Seamus McGregor! "No, Colonel," he said with a sigh. "Print out the information on the paternity test, if you will. I’ll take it from there."

  
"Yes, sir."

  
***

  
"I don’t give a damn what he’s busy with! Get him on the line!"

  
"Yes, Commander! Immediately, Commander!"

  
Straker paced the comfortable bedroom of the Bed and Breakfast while he waited for them to connect him with the doctor. Today had started out so promising. The entire day spent in Cait’s company – no emergencies, no interruptions. No aliens. Just a wonderful day to start fresh, getting to know each other again. He’d been almost giddy in her presence, more relaxed than he could remember being in a very long time. There was just something about being with her that made every empty place inside him suddenly full. It was nearly overwhelming. And he couldn’t explain it. But it wasn’t the first time it had happened to him.

  
He’d felt the same way the night they first met – thirteen years before.

  
Now all that had changed. The past had risen up to slap him in the face in a manner he had never imagined. He had a daughter. At least, he was fairly sure she was his daughter. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl in a family with neither of those traits. He’d make Jackson check on the blood tests that were being run for the paternity suit. Match her DNA with his. But he already knew what the results would be. And as sweet as Shannon was – as wonderful as her mother was – he was never going to be able to claim her as his. How could he ever explain?

  
"Yes, Commander?" spoke someone from the receiver, and he recognized Jackson’s voice over the phone. "You wished to speak to me?"

  
"Yes," he said, then paused for a moment, unsure where to begin. Finally he said tersely, "We have a problem."

  
　

**Chapter 6**

  
Cait furiously attacked her canvas with paint, her face fierce and her brain on fire. She splattered on more dark crimson over the vida loca transparent green, forcing it in every direction. Then she stood back from the canvas and surveyed her work, her mind clearing of its red haze at last.

  
It looked good.

  
She set down the palette and brush and stretched, one hand on her back. That was when she saw that she wasn’t alone. Ed Straker stood in the drive, watching her. When she met his eyes, she could see that he looked as serious as she felt. So she waved him over to where she was set up on the patio, saying, "Hello! Come on up for some tea!"

  
He hesitated. "I don’t want to intrude."

  
But she shook her head. "No, that’s fine. I’m done. I was just taking a break, and you’ll be better company than I am right now."

  
He walked up the lawn. "Bad day?"

  
She grimaced. "Bad month! Have a seat. I’ll be right back." And she disappeared inside.

  
Straker came onto the patio and glanced at the canvas. It was a violent abstract, using cinnabar as the bright background, which was then liberally spattered with dark crimson and a vivid transparent green. He wondered how she had attained the transparency on the color, but figured by her mood that now wasn’t the time to ask such technical questions. But he knew the subject matter, and it gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach. Because he’d seen that combination of colors before many times.

  
Whenever an alien was shot.

  
"Here we are," she said as she came outside with the tea. She handed him a cup, then sat on one of the deck chairs with her own.

  
He sat nearby and tried to figure out what to say to her. Because if she was painting the memory of a dead alien, then she was remembering far more than she should be about her encounter thirteen years ago.

  
But in the end, she spoke first. "How did class go?"

  
He smiled, recalling his brief foray back into childhood this morning as he’d gone to Shannon’s school. "It went well, I think. At least, I enjoyed it immensely. You’ll have to ask Shannon what the kids thought of it."

  
Cait smiled slightly in return. "I’m sure they were thrilled. I’ll bet they’ll be talking about it for weeks! My English class never had anyone as interesting as a famous actor come visit. The most we had was a local weatherman once for our science class."

  
His blue eyes twinkled. "Now that would have been a thrill."

  
She choked on a laugh at his dry tone. "Exactly!" Then she sat back, relaxing for the first time in hours. "Thank you, Ed. You’re just the tonic I need after the morning I’ve had. I thought painting would get it out of my system. But it seems that all I really needed was a dose of your sarcastic wit to make everything alright again."

  
"Glad I could help." They sipped their tea in silence, and he watched as her face gradually lost its haunted look. "Are you having trouble with Shannon?" he asked quietly once he was certain she was relaxed.

  
Cait sighed. "No. Shannon’s the best kid. I never have a bit of trouble with her. It makes me worried sometimes about her teenage years. I mean, is she saving it up until then?"

  
Straker was sure that mothers the world over had similar concerns about their children. "If I were you, I wouldn’t borrow trouble."

  
She grinned in relief. "You’re right. Today has enough worry in it for anyone!"

  
"Would it help to talk about it?"

  
She met his eyes, then looked away. "It’s trouble with my ex. It’s nothing secret. It’s just embarrassing."

  
"If it’s about him, why should you be embarrassed?"

  
She was startled into a laugh, then considered. "Well . . . I guess because it shows a severe lack of judgment on my part that I ever married him."

  
"Cait, we all make mistakes," he said softly.

  
She looked at him in surprise. "Did you? In your marriage?"

  
He sighed. "Yes. I believe so. Looking back, it’s fairly obvious that we were doomed from the start. But at the time, I thought I was in love. In fact, I was fairly sure that I had love completely figured out."

  
She grinned. "Oh, the arrogance of youth! Yeah, I once felt that way too. Funny how life proves you wrong." She brooded a bit before adding, "But I’ll bet you didn’t get married just because you were pregnant."

  
His breath caught. He’d wondered during the long night if something like that had occurred. The timing of her marriage had taken on a different aspect entirely with the added information of a child. _God, he had so much to answer for where she was concerned! _He drank some tea, giving himself time to hide his emotions before he spoke. "No. I can honestly say that’s a scenario I didn’t have to tackle."

  
"I think the biggest mistake I made with Seamus was thinking that we were in agreement on a few basics that mattered. Like loyalty, fidelity, teamwork. Just a few basic things that might have made the difference for us if we’d felt the same about them. It’s hard looking back and realizing that he never was faithful to me. Not even when we were dating. But you know, you only see what you want to see when you’re in love. It’s why I haven’t been in any hurry to go back there; to fall in love again. Once a fool was quite enough for me, thank you."

  
"Cait . . ."

  
She met his eyes, tears in hers. "But here I am again! Only this time it’s so much stronger than anything I felt for Seamus. And I’m terrified, Ed! Because you’re like a dream come true. Like I’d made a list of everything I could ever want in a man, and you came along and filled it. How can I trust that? How can I trust you? Especially when I don’t even know why I react so intensely to you! I mean, it wasn’t until yesterday that I even realized why you’ve seemed so familiar to me. I’m not a movie watcher, so I knew it wasn’t that I was used to seeing you on the tv. But I couldn’t figure out what it was! Until I sat at the table with you and Shannon and realized that you both have the same color eyes. It’s the most beautiful shade of blue – almost turquoise most of the time, darkening to Viking blue when you’re feeling anything deeply. I used to dream about that color when I was carrying Shannon. I wasn’t at all surprised when she turned out to be blue-eyed. She’d showed it to me while still in the womb, you see.

  
"And here you are, looking like someone I already know and trust. Acting like the man of my dreams. Even better, in fact. So what am I supposed to believe? That I’ve finally found the real thing after all these years? Or that my mind is merely playing tricks on me again, letting me see only what I want to see?"

  
He took her restless hands in his. "Cait, how do you think it is for me? My work, my life, is in the city. It’s work that I love, and for years it’s been all I’ve had to occupy my time. And now suddenly, I find myself needing to be around someone who lives so far out of any city that her roads aren’t even paved! Taking time off work for the first time in – forever, I think! – just to be with you. And finding out that the more I have of your company, the more I need it. What am I supposed to do about that, Cait? Do you think I can go home after this vacation and carry on as if none of this mattered?

  
"You’ve changed me. You’ve opened up parts of me that have never seen the light of day. Brought things out of me that I didn’t even know were in there! I can’t go back to who I was before. It’s too late. And I don’t want to anyway. I want to be with you. I love you. That much I am certain of. What I thought I knew of love wasn’t even a drop in the bucket to what I know now. With you. But I don’t know how to reconcile my life, my work, with where I want to be – which is with you."

  
Tears streamed down her face as she grasped his hands in turn. "Oh, Ed! That’s the easiest part! Geography’s nothing! Of course, we’d come with you!"

  
He shook his head. "And leave everything you’ve ever known? What about your art? Shannon’s schooling?"

  
She smiled through her tears. "Ed, I can paint anywhere. Even in the city, if I have to. It’s not like I haven’t done it before. And Shannon? Just ask her if she’d like to get away from this provincial school and go to a real one in the city!"

  
He stood up, bringing her into his arms and drying her tears with his fingers. Searching her face, his heart full. Kissing her, holding nothing back of what he felt for her, had always felt for her. And she kissed him back, pouring all her heart into it, running her hands through his hair, giving him everything.

  
"Ahem."

  
They broke apart, turning to stare as Shannon came onto the patio with her book bag slung over one shoulder. She grinned at them as she went to the door. "Sorry. Just thought you ought to know – you’re not alone." She let the door fall closed behind her as she headed to the cupboard for a snack.

  
"Ed . . ."

  
He released her with a sigh. "Yes. I know. Duty calls."

  
She grinned at his terminology. "Yeah. You could say that. Would you like to stay for dinner again?"

  
"No," he said regretfully. "There are things I need to do this afternoon. May I come by later this evening?"

  
"I’d like that."

  
He gave her a quick kiss, then turned to go. But he stopped at the edge of the patio as his eyes caught sight of the painting on the canvas. "Cait, one thing. What will you call it?" he asked, gesturing to the painting.

  
She glanced at it with a frown. Her body was still singing from his embrace, and she almost didn’t recall the mood she’d been in when she painted it. "I don’t know," she said after a moment. "‘Technicolor Nightmare,’ maybe. What do you think?"

  
He regarded her steadily. "Is that what it is? A nightmare?"

  
"Yeah. A very vivid one, actually. I woke up from it quite early this morning, and the day just went downhill from there." Then she grinned. "Until you showed up, of course."

  
But he didn’t respond with an answering grin as she expected. Instead, he stared at the painting a moment longer with an enigmatic expression, then met her eyes and said, "I’ll see you this evening, alright?"

  
"Sure."

  
As he walked off down the road, Shannon said from the doorway, "It looks majorly creepy to me, if you want my opinion. Definitely not for over the sofa, Mom."

  
Cait grinned. "I could always call it ‘Attack of the Deranged Killer Monsters From A Parallel Galaxy.’ That would make it an instant classic for your age group."

  
Shannon laughed, but as her mother passed her in the doorway to come inside, she stole another glance at the painting on her mother’s canvas.

  
And shivered.

  
***

  
Straker spent the rest of the afternoon in Inverness. He soon had what he’d come there for tucked away in his jacket pocket, but decided to stop into a whiskey shop for a gift for Alec before heading back. The first thing he heard on entering the shop was an English accent, a familiar sound that he hadn’t heard often in the past few days and which made him almost nostalgic for a moment. He went down an aisle, knowing what he was looking for – a thirty year old Ardbeg with a firm smooth body and a smoky fragrance. Alec would be salivating when he gave it to him.

  
As he chose the one he wanted, he saw that the English accent belonged to a lovely young woman who was paying for her choice at the counter. Her rich brown hair fell to her shoulders, hiding her face from his view. But he could clearly see on her left shoulder a tattoo of the constellation Orion. _Intriguing_. He went to get in line behind her just as she was turning to go, and they bumped into each other.

  
"Oh! Sorry!" she said, then got a good look at him. Her blue eyes widened as she recognized him, and she said involuntarily, "Oh, my!"

  
He gave her a charming smile. "Excuse me. I didn’t mean to run into you."

  
"Hey, no problem!" she told him with a grin. "What brings you to the Highlands? Are you shooting a film here?"

  
"No," he said cordially, quite used to fans of his work treating him as an acquaintance. "I’m on holiday."

  
Her lively eyes twinkled. "Me too. Are you staying in Inverness? We could have drinks at my hotel and compare whiskies."

  
Straker was flattered by her invitation, but shook his head ruefully. "I’m staying further south this trip. But thank you for the offer."

  
She shrugged, taking his refusal with a grace he found very refreshing. "Maybe next time," she said.

  
Impulsively, he reached into his jacket and took out a studio pass. "Here," he said, giving it to her. "Come take the tour sometime when you’re back home."

  
Her eyes lit up as she accepted it. "Thank you, Mr. Straker! Thanks so much!"

  
"My pleasure, Miss . . . ?"

  
She blushed. "Louise."

  
"My pleasure, Louise."

  
She gave him a dazzling smile and walked out of the shop. But he noticed as the clerk took the whiskey to box it for him that she stood on the pavement out front for a while, just smiling at the small pass in her hand.

  
***

  
He barely made it back to the Bed and Breakfast before Alec called.

  
"What is it?" he asked his second-in-command.

  
"Just what we didn’t want!" the colonel told him angrily. "We’ve got another sighting. And guess where they’re headed?"

  
Straker sighed, setting his packages aside and sitting on the comfortable armchair as he spoke to his friend. "Well, Alec. I don’t see the problem. Just make sure they don’t make it this far."

  
"Yeah. You can laugh," Freeman said disgustedly. "Just – stay put for a while, okay? Or go to the command post for the night."

  
"Alec! I’m hardly a child! I have plans for this evening. I’ll be fine."

  
"Damn it, Ed!" returned his friend fiercely. "Don’t make me any more worried than I already am! Okay?"

  
The commander ran a hand across his eyes. "Alright, Alec. I’ll stay inside and read a book. Will that make you happy?"

  
"Thanks, Ed!" His friend’s relief was audible through the phone line. "I’ll let you know as soon as we have the all-clear."

  
Straker hung up with him and sat in the chair for a while, brooding. The small box was burning a hole in his jacket pocket, but he obviously wasn’t going to be able to take care of it tonight. He gave a deep sigh, then called Cait to let her know he wouldn’t make it.

  
_Damned aliens!_

  
***

  
He was deep into the fourth chapter of Hawking’s new bestseller ‘A Brief History of Time’ when Col. Lake called from the command post to let him know that she was sending a guard patrol to bring him to the post. The UFO had slid past the interceptors and was even now entering the atmosphere. And she refused to have her commander out in the open with no protection.

  
He listened to her in silence, merely sighing deeply before telling her he’d be downstairs and ready to go when they arrived. He didn’t want Cait’s friends to get an eyeful of their guest being escorted away by military personnel.

  
It was morning before he got back to the Bed and Breakfast. He came into the dining room in time to join the other guests for the enormous breakfast the owners provided and took his seat at the table while they were served. As he ate, he listened absently to his neighbor, a friendly tourist who just had to tell him about all the treasures she’d found at the Loch Ness gift shop the day before. He glanced around the table at the other diners, feeling a bit of unreality at the realization that none of them had any idea how close they had come to being involved in a UFO incident last night. The wily spacecraft had somehow managed to escape from the Sky jets and land, but thankfully the mobiles were in position quickly enough to take care of the invaders without any of the locals being hurt.

  
But as far as Straker was concerned, they’d gotten too close for comfort. He wanted Cait and Shannon out of Scotland as soon as possible. He’d only feel safe once they were ensconced in his house back in Wessex.

  
***

  
Straker spent the morning catching up on lost sleep from the night before, so it was almost noon before he’d showered, shaved, and dressed. He hoped to convince Cait to take the afternoon and hike with him to the falls of Foyers and on down to Loch Ness. He’d been told by his hosts that it was beautiful country, and he wanted to take her somewhere special.

  
But those plans were scrapped when he came downstairs and found Cait on the verge of coming up to see him. Her friend Sarah stood nearby, clearly worried, and Straker could sympathize with her. Cait looked shattered.

  
"Ed!" she said when she saw him on the stairs.

  
"What is it, Cait?" he asked, taking her arm and helping her up the stairway.

  
But she refused to say anything until he’d brought her to his room and had her sit. Then she put her head in her hands and cried, as if she’d been holding it in until she’d reached a safe haven. He was pleased that she had trusted him enough to turn to him, but he was also concerned about what might have happened since yesterday to put her in this state. He brought her a glass of water, and she drank it gladly. Then she set it aside and looked at him.

  
"I’m sorry, Ed. I shouldn’t have come until I was calmer, I suppose. But I didn’t know what else to do."

  
He took her hands and said, "Don’t apologize. I’m glad you came to me. What is it, Cait? What’s happened? Is it Shannon? Is she okay?"

  
Fresh tears came into her eyes at his solicitude. "Yes, Ed. She’s fine. At least, for now. But I don’t know what I’m going to say to her! My head is still spinning, and I can’t seem to get any of it to make sense!"

  
He began to have an inkling why she was upset. When he’d awakened after his rest, there’d been a voicemail on his phone from Dr. Jackson with the results of the paternity test. As well as the DNA match results for him and Shannon.

  
_His daughter_.

  
He ran a hand down her dark cap of hair and said softly, "Take a deep breath, then tell me all about it whenever you’re ready."

  
Obediently, she took a breath, then slowly let it out.

  
"Better?" he asked.

  
She nodded, taking one of his hands and holding it for strength. "Thank you. I must seem like a crazy woman to you."

  
"Not at all," he assured her.

  
"It’s Seamus," she said suddenly. "He’s been simply impossible for the past month or so. I know it’s because of Marcy, his girlfriend."

  
"The one who wants to be the second Mrs. McGregor?" he asked with a wry look.

  
"Yes," she said with a half-grin. "She hates the fact that she has to share him with Shannon when she comes to visit, and seems to take it entirely personally that he pays child support for her. So she’s been saying things, implying all sorts of truly awful things about me to him, making him think Shannon isn’t his daughter just because she’s so fair, and we’re both dark. It’s stupid really, but he believed her. He’s been calling and saying the most terrible things to me! He even hauled me to London for some deposition where I had to tell a whole roomful of solicitors why my daughter doesn’t look like her father! It felt like some horrible nightmare!" She ran a shaky hand over her face, then met his eyes. "That was the day before I met you, actually."

  
"Cait, I . . ."

  
She squeezed his hand. "I know. Maybe it was bad timing. But at least meeting you gave me something else to think about than that awful deposition!" Her smile was a little more genuine this time, but it didn’t last. "Then today he called and said he had the results of the tests they ran. He said that Shannon wasn’t his daughter, and the court was going to let him stop paying child support. Not that I care about that, because we don’t need his money. I always put it in an account for Shannon to use for college anyway. But he also said he didn’t want to have her visiting anymore!" She began rocking back and forth in the chair, her arms going around herself for comfort. "It doesn’t make any sense! The tests somehow got it wrong! And now I have to tell my daughter that her father doesn’t want to see her because of them! What can I do? How did the tests get it wrong? Is there a way to find out?"

  
He met her gaze and almost told her everything. He couldn’t bear to see her going through such torment because of him. She certainly didn’t deserve to have this situation rebound on her in such a horrific manner. But he bit his tongue and stopped himself in time. He knew that Security would not care that he needed to atone for what had happened. That all he wanted to do was come clean with her – about the past, about their daughter, about everything. She was a civilian. And worse, one who had already been involved in a prior UFO incident. They would silence her. Efficiently and permanently.

  
And that would be beyond any bearing at all.

  
So instead he drew her into his arms and kissed her, murmuring soft words as he caressed her and held her close. Comforting her in the only way he was allowed. And she responded, running her hands across his shoulders, down his arms, restlessly as he stirred her senses into white hot passion. By the time he laid her on the bed, she had forgotten every reason why she had come to see him except one – that she needed him.

  
***

  
Cait woke from an exhausted sleep to find herself wrapped in his arms, his hand absently stroking up and down her arm. She turned and met his blue gaze, overwhelmed once more by the wonder of him.

  
"Feeling better?" he asked softly.

  
She chuckled. "If you have to ask, you must not have been paying attention."

  
Straker grinned, relieved to see the haunted look gone from her face. "I’ll take that as a yes."

  
She gave him an ornery look. "You must know what a wonderful lover you are. Don’t your girlfriends ever tell you?"

  
He shook his head. "Cait, I hate to ruin your image of me as a freewheeling bachelor, but I’ve only had two lovers in my life." He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. "And you’re one of them."

  
She stared at him in shock for a full minute, then whispered, "Really?"

  
Her words reminded him of Shannon, and he realized suddenly where his daughter got her inquiring nature from. "Really."

  
"Well, me too," she said softly. "I mean, I’ve only had two lovers too. Including you." She fell silent for a moment, and he knew she was thinking about her exhusband’s accusations. When she met his eyes once more, she looked disturbed. "And now everyone will think I’m some sort of slut or something because of that test! And even that wouldn’t matter so much, if it didn’t make it seem like Shannon was the product of something sordid." She slid her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. "Oh, Ed! What am I going to tell her?"

  
He kissed the top of her head, then got up from the bed for a moment, returning with something in his hand. He showed her the small box just before flipping up the lid. Cait gasped when she saw the ring inside.

  
"Ed!"

  
"You tell her that she’s moving to Wessex to live with her new stepfather, who wants her company very much."

  
Her lovely grey eyes filled with tears. "Ed! You didn’t have to do this! We would have come to live with you without all this!"

  
He sighed, taking the ring out of its box and placing it on her finger. "I’m sorry, Cait, but I can’t do that. My mother raised me to treat a girl properly, and I just can’t let myself live in sin. So, you’re just going to have to marry me and make an honest man out of me."

  
"You’re ridiculous," she told him with a grin, then threw her arms around his neck. "Yes! Yes, Ed, I’ll marry you!"

  
He kissed her fervently. "Thank you! I promise to give you no reason to regret it."

  
"Regret?" she asked in amazement. "The only regret I have is that we can’t be married tomorrow!"

  
He ran a tender hand down her cheek. "My sentiments exactly."

  
　

**Epilogue**

  
"I’m sorry, sir. We cannot sanction a union between a civilian with her background and a member of the Command team. It states quite clearly in the handbook that since she was involved in a prior UFO incident, her risk rating makes her ineligible for any member of SHADO. And certainly for its commander. Sir."

  
Straker gripped the phone tightly and said, "Listen, Major. I’m not asking for your permission to marry her. I’m telling you flat out that I _am_ marrying her! Do you think I give a damn about your rule book?"

  
"Sir . . ."

  
"Get me Jackson!" demanded the commander firmly.

  
"Sir?"

  
"I said, get me Dr. Jackson, Major! Now!"

  
The sound of the major swallowing came through the phone line. "I’m sorry, sir. He’s not in the office at the moment. Shall I have him call you when he’s available?"

  
Straker said, his voice dangerously quiet, "I said to get him now, Major. What part of that didn’t you understand?"

  
"Yes, sir. Immediately, sir. Will you hold?"

  
Straker fumed and paced around the bedroom as he waited to be connected with the doctor. He knew SHADO Security procedure better than anyone. He’d been one of the ones who helped write that damned rule book the major insisted on quoting. But sometimes it was necessary to go outside the rules. And every great once in a while, it was necessary to throw the damned book away!

  
"Commander Straker?" asked a voice over the phone, and Straker recognized the doctor’s Slavic tones.

  
"Jackson, I suppose the major has given you my request."

  
The doctor sighed. "Yes, Commander, he did. I am surprised that you even asked for permission. Surely you know the rules better than anyone?"

  
"Listen, Jackson. You know my situation. And you know what I’ve been through regarding it. I’ve been given the chance to make things right for Cait and I. And for our daughter. To overcome by this one small act all the damage I did at our first meeting thirteen years ago. If you think I’m going to walk away from that opportunity simply because it’s not acceptable in the handbook, you don’t know me very well."

  
"Commander, I understand your need to make amends. But surely there are other ways of doing so that do not include putting the security of our entire organization at risk. Just by being around her these past days, you have undoubtedly caused some of her memories of that night to return. Have you noticed anything unusual?"

  
Straker thought about the painting she had done the day before. And her comment about how familiar he seemed to her. But he had no intention of giving the doctor any reason to refuse his request, so he said nothing about it. Instead he said, "Look, Jackson. I’m marrying her. There will be no debate about that. What I need from you is your decision on how you intend to handle it. Do you want my resignation? Because I’m quite ready to give it. You of all people should know how much this marriage means to me. But perhaps you should think for a moment what it can mean to the organization. Do you want me to be able to last out the next ten or more years at SHADO until a replacement can be found? To be able to function as a commander who is happy, rested, and relaxed? To be able to circumvent that huge breakdown you’ve been so worried I’m headed for?

  
"I can guarantee you that if Cait and I marry, there won’t be any breakdown. No ulcer, no stress overload. And no incidents like what occurred last month. All that, Jackson, for the small price of allowing me to marry the woman of my choice.

  
"Or – you can have the alternative. You pick."

  
There was silence for a time over the phone line. Then the doctor said, "Commander, you and I both know that you will not abandon SHADO. It’s ridiculous for you to even threaten such a thing. I am well aware of your dedication to Earth."

  
"Think again, Doctor. I’m not bluffing. I would be quite happy to take Cait and Shannon and go somewhere quiet to live out whatever time Earth has left before the aliens overrun it. At least we would be together for as long as it lasted. And who knows? You might even find someone once I’m gone who can keep things together for a few more years."

  
This time the silence on the line lasted even longer. Finally the doctor sighed. "Very well, Commander. Security will authorize your request. I hope you understand that it may at some future point be necessary to re-administer the amnesia drug should too many memories surface from the incident. I trust you will not refuse our assistance should it be required?"

  
Straker gave a quiet sigh of relief. But his voice remained firm when he said, "Naturally, Doctor, I shall cooperate in every way."

  
The doctor snorted. But then he said, "Then I shall congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials, Commander."

  
Before Straker could respond, the line went dead. He looked at the receiver for a moment, then smiled wryly. It wasn’t easy fooling a man who knew you almost better than you knew yourself. He could only be grateful that Jackson cared too much about the survival of the human race to push the commander too far. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if the doctor had held out against his bluff.

  
After a moment, he stood up and headed downstairs. Cait was expecting him for dinner, and he didn’t want to arrive there late.


End file.
